


The Element

by eightsillymonkeys



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Umbrella Academy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightsillymonkeys/pseuds/eightsillymonkeys
Summary: This is a rewrite of the series, with an extra character.Atlas Hargreeves was Number Eight. He could bend the elements and was going to help Five prevent the apocalypse, sparking up some feelings (that never left) along the way.Five and Atlas are the same age and have been aged up to 16
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Male Character(s), Number Five | The Boy/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh so I don't know many people that ship this but I do and I really needed to see a fic like this so I wrote it myself, I only have one chapter so far but I'm looking forward to continue working on it.

On the twelfth hour, on the first day of October, 1989, 43 women around the world simultaneously gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact none of these women had been pregnant prior. Sir Reginald Hagreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, made it his mission to adopt and raise as many of these children as possible.

He got eight of them.

13 Years Later, November 10th, 2002.

Grace rung her bell.

All eight students to the Umbrella Academy walked into the dining room silently, each stood behind their assigned seat.

Seconds after, Reginald walked in and took his place at head of the table, four children either side of him.

“Sit.” He announced. They followed.

All eight children of the Umbrella Academy sat in silence, Luther and Allison looking at each other with teasing eyes, making it so glaringly obvious, Diego carving something into his seat, Klaus rolling something under the table, Ben reading a book, Vanya and Atlas playing rock paper scissors with each other across the table.

All sat in silence.

Aside from Five.

He scowled at his father, ignoring his looks, he slammed his knife into the table.

“Number Five?” His deep voice spoke volumes.

“I have a question,” His jaw clenched and his stare could currently kill.

“Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during meal times, you are interrupting Herr Carlson.”

Five seethed with anger silently, “I want to time travel,” He had demanded, turning his face up at his adoptive Father.

“No,” He waved off Five dismissively.

“But I’m ready,” he stood up in a rage, plate and cutlery clattering against each other “I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you’ve said,” As if to prove himself he special jumped right next to Reginald.

“See?”

“A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water, and reappearing as an acorn.”

“Well, I don’t get it,” his teeth gnawed against each other.

“Hence the reason you’re not ready.”

Five looked at the table where they all sat, a mix of staring at him and ignoring the fuss going about the table.

Atlas looked at him, shook his head, silently saying _No, don’t do it._

“I’m not afraid,” He continued, ignoring him, speaking with a white-hot flame under his voice.

“Fear isn’t the issue, the effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable. Now, I forbid you to talk about this any longer.” And with that, he placed the glass he had picked up down, and went to finishing his meal in silence.

Five took a look at what he was forced to call a Father, and left.

“Number Five? You haven’t been excused!” Reginald said as if it would stop Five from what he was about to do, “Come back here!”

Footsteps could be heard running across the floor, their front door opening, and closing behind him.

Reginald looked up at all his children, staring them down telling them not to follow, “He will come back,” He said with a certainty, none of them, not even himself, believed, and went back to finishing breakfast.

Atlas could feel his heart tearing out of his chest, wherever Five would be going, he wouldn’t be coming back.

Training for that day went as it usually would.

Each child had their own separate training, to help enhance their own special ability, and joint training, which generally consisted of physical competition (that Luther would usually win) unlike their individual training where they practiced with their powers.

Nothing out of the ordinary had changed, aside from the fact Five was no longer here.

At least for another month.

Atlas had been placed in a room, or that’s what his Father would call it.

He was in a chamber looking dungeon.

He could bend all the elements, he had a taking towards air, enjoyed the way he could be light and breezy about it, but insisted he could do more than just bend the basic elements; water, fire, earth and air.

He insisted he could be able to do, what his father called, bend sub-elements.

So he stuck Atlas in a metal room, no light, under their house, small, cold and lonely. And said he couldn’t get out or eat until he bent the metal to make his own way out, and left.

Atlas knew he couldn’t do it, it was _metal_ for crying out loud. The bits of earth he could bend were refined and stuck deep within the metal. He could not bend his way out. And trying to bend the actual metal itself was out of the question.

So he took a corner of the chamber and claimed it as his own, even if he did have the whole thing to himself.

He was left to his ever-intrusive thoughts that didn’t always leave him in the best state of mind.

He brought his legs up to his chest and held them tightly to protect him from the cold, very poorly at that and shut his eyes to block it out.

He thought about Five.

How stupid was he? He had been gone for a week now. He misses his best friend.

Sure, he was close with Vanya too, but it was different with Five, it was always different with Five.

At night, when they weren’t hooked up to whatever system Reginald had them on, he could hear Five practising his spatial jumps far too late into the night.

_“Five?” He whisper shouted._

_It was god knows what time in the morning, he was squinting into the blue flicker of light across the hall that came from his spatial jumps, in his pyjamas leaning against his door._

_Suddenly a bright blue light appeared in front of him, he had to look away it was so bright._

_“Yeah?” Five asked, no regard for the other children down the hall too trying to sleep, speaking at his normal level of voice, too energetic for what was probably two in the morning._

_“Go to sleep Five,”_

_“Oh? Did I wake you?” His brows furrowed worriedly, and he looked up at him guilty_

_“No,” his stomach swooped at the thought of the only person Five ever seemed to actually really care about was him, “Just can’t get to sleep, you know that,”_

_“So you just lie in bed until you can go to sleep? That’s really boring,” he grinned, “Look, I’m getting really good at spatial jumping. I think I’ll be ready for time soon!”_

_The smile that made its way onto Atlas’ face unnoticed dropped._

_“Time is a lot Five, are you sure you’re ready?”_

_Five looked at him, most people he would get offensive around if they doubted his abilities, Atlas however, he just tried to reassure him._

_“I’ll be fine Atlas, you know I’m the best at my powers out of everyone here,”_

_Atlas quirked a brow at him._

_“Aside from you, maybe you’re on my level, or a little below, just a tiny bit though, miniscule,” his eyes twinkled playfully_

_“I’m better than you Five,” he said amused._

_“Yeah, yeah alright, fine. But if I’m going to time travel wouldn’t you want me to be better than you so it’s less likely I failed?” He looked mischievous even for this time of morning._

_It was dark in the hall, the only source of light the almost full moon, pouring moon light down the hall, reflecting off Fives face the best way it could._

_“I don’t wanna loose you to time, Five,” he mumbled quietly, looking down in shame._

_“You won’t,” He grabbed Atlas’ hands in his._

_Atlas looked up at the sudden contact, his eyes meeting with Fives._

_“Trust me, okay?”_

_Atlas stayed silent._

_Five spatial jumped the both of them in front of Atlas’ bed._

_“See? Now c’mon, let’s just go to bed.”_

_It was always easier to find sleep when he had slept with Five._

He curled in on himself further, and accepted hid defeat. Surely, his Father wouldn’t leave him in here for any longer than 48 hours.

He would.

Reginald came to see him twice a day. Each time was to check his progress and to give him a glass of water. It would be an understatement to say he was disappointed in him.

He watched Number Eight drink his water and take back the glass. His stomach ached for food, growling at him and making him curl in on himself ways he didn’t know possible.

By the time he came around with his fourth glass of water, Reginald began to lecture him.

“Are you even trying boy?!” he had opened the metal door, after all, there were no windows, only small dots lining at the top of the box to give him fresh air.

Atlas looked down, he couldn’t face his Father, he was powerless and cold and hungry and tired.

“All you must do Number Eight is look in at yourself, and the metal. The smaller refined pieces of earth in the metal. The metal _is_ the earth, simply more pure.”

“It’s not that easy,” he grumbled

“Speak up! I can’t hear you mumbling!”

“I said,” he growled, “It’s not that easy. You try being locked up in here four two days. You expect me to be able to bend myself out but with what energy?! I have no food, I have no comfort of a bed, a cold metal floor, and get two glasses of water every day! I can’t do anything! I already know what’s inside the metal! I’m the one bending it! So stop lecturing me!” He blew up at his father.

“Number Eight, one does not always have the resources they wish,” He spoke calmly, “If the time came you were stuck in a place and you needed to bend metal, and you hadn’t the luxury of food and water, you wouldn’t be conditioned into working such an environment, thus being unprepared and likely not succeeding in what ever task you wish to accomplish.” Reginald shut the door behind him, and left Atlas once again.

Atlas felt so much, tired, cold, hungry, _angry._

He wanted out. That’s all he wanted. Out.

He didn’t sign up for this, and he’s not ever going to get stuck somewhere where he can only bend metal, he still had his other three elements too, and the unlikelihood he got surrounded by just metal? It amused him.

He needed to get out, his father was ruthless and would keep Atlas just from starving to death for months if that is what it took. He needed to get out.

He stood up, took the emotions inside him and piled them inside of him, to let it out as he (hopefully) bent. He took a deep breath.

He took his stance, some of the forms his father had taught him to use.

He brought his arms up together, in fists, elbows bent, together, and let out his breath. He pictured the room around him, could feel everything through the earth, and shut his eyes.

He brought apart his arms, he pushed them down, hands flat, and continued.

He heard a sound within the metal and quirked up at that, a triumphant smile making his way on his lips but kept composed and continued.

Reginald, who had almost finished walking away looked up at him, a smile of success tugging at him.

Atlas brought his hands so the palms were facing each other, and brought them apart slowly.

One of the air vent holes at the top of the box moved.

It extended, joining with the other holes, creating a larger one.

One large enough to crawl through if Atlas could reach.

With one last movement, Atlas pushed his hands and arms down, bringing the crawl space with him, and opened his eyes.

He did it. He bent metal.

He crawled through, with a big toothy smile, and walked up to Reginald who was waiting for him.

They walked in silence once they were together, and once back up onto ground, Reginald looked at him.

“I expect to see you at dinner, get some rest.”

And boy, did he rest.

He passed out onto his best once he reached it, still smiling and looking forward for dinner.

The next day for his personal training Reginald placed different metals in front of Atlas on a table.

“Today will be a continuation of your metal bending. Each metal is different in it’s own way, some are denser some are light, some are pure some are not. Prior to this you bent a heavier metal, iron. Today I would like you to manipulate more simpler metals, utilise them. We are focusing on being precise and small, unlike yesterday which we focused on raw power.”

Atlas nodded along, this should be a walk in the park if he could bend iron, surely he could bend the aluminium he had placed out on the table.

“Unlike yesterday you should not require using a stance, and if so, I don’t expect it to be so large. I want you to focus on the finer details. I trust you know your metals, but here was have titanium, aluminium, lithium, and least dense of all, what I wish to start on, microlattice,”

“Microlattice is the lightest metal known to man, it is strong, though nothing like I expect you to be using, yet weightless. It is 99.99 percent air. I expect you to be focusing on that 0.01 percent of metal and bending out of its current shape of a rectangle and into a sphere.”

And with that, he nodded his head to the microlattice, stepped back, and looked expectantly.

It took far longer than what Atlas would like to admit.

He had to focus on the tiny percent of metal, he would call it impossible but he also called bending his way out of that box impossible, and he was out.

He bent the air in it but his father raised his eyebrows at him and he stopped. Of course he could tell when he was air bending.

Finally, he bent it to look like a sphere.

“And now, a star.”

In all honestly he felt like it took more effort to work on the finer details. He huffed out a sigh of defeat.

“Why is this harder,” he grumbled.

“Because, Number Eight, you are focusing on such a small percent of metal, and focusing on bending it to how you wish. I don’t expect you to get it immediately, but some time today would be nice.”

It was a rhetorical question but he wasn’t going to tell him that.

He even took a stance, bent his legs slightly. He closed his eyes and pictured the metal in his mind, he moved his hands how it was required, he tried, and tried, and tried, and finally got it. It was laughable it took so long to bend such a small amount of metal when he had previously bent such a large quantity.

“Back to a rectangle and we can move onto Lithium.”

He repeated the process, put all of him into his bending and finally moved onto Lithium.

“Lithium too, is one of the lightest metals we know today. Unlike shifting the shape into a definite shape, I wish you to play with the Lithium. To manipulate it into a range of varying objects at your free will, to have it constantly moving for five minutes is your goal.”

By the time Atlas even moved the Lithium, it was time to stop his training.

That was just the start of it. Atlas supposed it was Fives departure that did this to him.

He lost his powers.

It was a gradual process, but eventually, he couldn’t bend entirely.

He would be fifteen soon, and all he had left was air.

First he lost his ability to bend metal, after being in that box perhaps he burnt out himself, but the next day when it came to the small metals he found it, if anything, harder. He hadn’t really begun his training on the other elements, his father had mainly focused on working earth and air.

He insisted working elements opposite to each other at the same time would make it easier he said, even if he hadn’t noticed it. Well he must not have noticed it.

He could always bend all the elements, create fire and flick air around, move the ground slightly, float water across the room, but his father had only really trained him in two of said elements.

After he couldn’t bend metal he had lost this ability to bend earth entirely by the time the new year came.

Second he lost the ability to do what little he could with fire and water.

He didn’t know which came first, just one day he was trying to figure out what had happened to him, so he tried bending what hadn’t been the focus, and he couldn’t do either of them.

He hung onto his air bending for dear life, he loved it and if he lost it, he wouldn’t be anything.

He cursed himself for the thought of it, but he would be like Vanya. Ordinary.

The public already wondered what happened to him, they questioned him in interviews, trying to dig deeper and deeper into the open wound, and he hated it.

His air bending was weakening, he could feel it. When he moved for a larger gust of air he got a smaller one than expected, it would take more and more effort to move the air. Until finally, he couldn’t move it at all.

He was fourteen when it happened.

His father was more than disappointed, he was disgusted in him.

Reginald shamed his children for _feeling._ Said emotion was what made people weak, and would blind your thoughts and judgments and make decisions for you. But feeling was apart of life and he wasn’t going to feel guilty for feeling things.

With Five, went his powers.

With his powers, went him.

Being normal couldn’t be so bad, 7 billion other people were normal, he would do just fine being normal.

Bur Reginald wouldn’t accept normal for an answer. So he was forcefully frozen.

Stuck in a block of ice, Atlas was told he would be defrosted for when he would be of use to the world, that he wouldn’t age and waste his life if it couldn’t be of any use.

And he loathed his Father for this alone.

He couldn’t fight against it, even if he could still bend he only toyed around with water.

He was forced behind a fake wall in his study, only Reginald, Pogo and Grace knew where he was, and the terrible thing that had been done to him, forced to be a weapon, or not be anything at all.

Reginald lied to the public, said he had fallen ill, he had lost his ability to fight against crime, to bend elements. And _of course_ the public gave its condolences to Reginald and what he had lost and congratulated him for being so strong throughout it all. Reginald even created a memorial for Atlas, and each day a year, the day he had been frozen, or to the public, the day he lost his abilities, everyone would send their condolences, and nobody would question why they never saw Atlas.

14 Years Later, January 1st, 2017.

Reginald Hargreeves sat in his study. It has been one year since he sent Number One to the moon.

He didn’t have a reason, he needed to give him purpose, make him feel needed, otherwise the consequences as to what he had done to him without giving him a reason, could have been less than likable.

He sat, working, in his thoughts. His mind drifted to Number Eight, it was confusing how he had lost his powers when he lost Number Five. It left him wondering, if he had Number Five, would Number Eights his powers back.

But that was a question left unanswered, he couldn’t get Number Five back. Only he could come back. It left Reginald speechless, not in a good way, just a loss for words.

He hadn’t known if he had succeeded, if he was lost somewhere in time and couldn’t get back, or if he had died trying. Number Five time travelling was inevitable, Reginald didn’t regret many things in his life, but one of them were ignoring Number Five ambition, instead of and giving him just enough help to stop his thirst to time travel so unexperienced and recklessly.

He coughed. He was definitely falling sick.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” He rasped, holding the desk and coughing into his arms.

Pogo walked in, holding an all too familiar bag.

“Number One, Luther, has sent the rocks you requested,”

“You know where to put them,” he coughed, waving his hand in the general direction of the plank on the floor that lifted up, holding the rest of the rocks Luther brought him. Clogs turned in his head.

“Pogo, wait,” He gather a deep breath as to help his coughs. “Bring that here please. I have an idea,”

“Yes, Sir Reginald,”

“Thank you, Pogo.” He took the bag and placed it down, eyeing the bag, “Would you mind telling me how long it has been since Number Eight has been frozen?”

“Of course not sir,” He cleared his throat, “Number Eight, Atlas, was frozen 13 years, 9 months and 6 days ago, on the sixth of September 2003.”

“Shall we visit Number Eight?”

“Whatever you wish sir,”

Reginald got up out of his seat, grabbed his cane to help him and took a few steps toward the fake wall behind the office.

He lifted up his walking stick, as if to press a button and tapped four different bricks that lined the fire place in a special pattern.

Deeper movement could be heard beyond the walls, slowly, the fake wall started to creep open, revealing a small, bright room.

He walked in and Pogo followed, the door finishing its rotation and shutting as if though it had never been touched.

The room was a square, one light bright enough to light up the whole room.

Atlas was in an ice chamber at the centre back of the room, Reginald slowly walked with Pogo trailing behind.

The ice was covered in plastic, he tapped it with his walking stick.

“What do you think would happen if I defrosted Number Eight, Pogo?”

Pogo hummed a thought, “Sir Reginald, I think Number Eight, Atlas would be confused with the 14 years since he has been awake, and mad that he was frozen simply because he had lost his powers. I think it would be unwise to defrost him unless you are prepared for the consequences, and I am curious as to why the sudden perk of interest. After all, fourteen years in ice wouldn’t solve any problems with his lack of powers,”

“Yes Pogo, I agree completely,” he stayed silent, as if he purposely left a thought lingering in the air.

“What are you planning on, sir?”

Reginald took a minute to respond.

“Number Eight lost his ability to bend the elements, but those were elements from this earth. Perhaps something not off this earth will spark a flame inside him, causing a trigger to gain back his bending?”

“It is worth a shot, sir, but if he doesn’t?”

“Well, I don’t think he would take a liking to being frozen again, so perhaps we leave him to live the average civilian life. He might gain attention as to looking like the long-lost Number Seven, despite being Number Eight within the household, but nothing a hair cut and a little surgery cannot fix if said attention is dragged to him. Otherwise it is totally coincidental he looks so similar,”

“Perhaps sir, but what of schooling? He is, after all, a 14-year-old looking boy. If he were to live the civilian life it would be questionable to his living circumstances dependant on how he lived. Schooling and housing is in the question, I doubt he would appreciate being locked up in the house alone without people his age.”

“Pogo, your insight is helpful, but I think it’s time we do something of Number Eight, who knows what could happen if we don’t,”

“Whatever you wish sir.” Pogo stepped back to bow his head almost.

Reginald took a few steps to the side of the ice chamber he had left Number Eight to freeze in. The simple tap of a button could unfreeze him. Reginald tapped said button.

2 years later, March 24th 2019

Atlas woke up like any other day recently, sleeping in until 9am.

He was 16, or well, he looked 16, thanks to being frozen for fourteen years.

He remembered it clear has day, once he was removed from the ice, he seethed with anger at his father, being frozen hadn’t affected his memory, hadn’t made him forget his so-called Father _froze_ him for loosing his powers. Like he could help it!

Once he was conscious of what was going on around him, his joints feeling slack, he had a pounding head, and yet, the first thing he had done was punch Reginald right across the face.

_“I guess I deserved that,” he muttered._

_“You do more than just deserve it! You fucking froze me for losing my powers like I had control over it. Do you think I wanted to lose my powers!?”_

_Reginald stayed silent._

_“What’s the date?”_

_“January first 2017,” Pogo supplied._

_“Well happy new year,” he sarcastically spoke, “But fourteen years. You froze me for fourteen fucking years?”_

_“It is not one of my proudest moments, I must admit, but you are here now Number Eight, and that is what matters, and please, do mind your language, we are here to help,”_

_“If you wanted to help you wouldn’t have fucking froze me,”_

_“What’s done has been done Number Eight, leave it in the past where it belongs,” the thought of time punched him in the gut, mind thinking of Five._

_“Well why am I out now? Am I a new years resolution of yours because the rest of the family abandoned you? Need something to fill your time?” he spoke with a sass he never would have dared to speak to him with before. But that was before, when he hadn’t been frozen in ice for fourteen years._

_“I wouldn’t word it like that, but yes that is the goal, to help you, now if you would follow me,”_

_He led Atlas to the space rocks. He dead panned them, the room staying silent with an air of expectancy._

_“Well, what do you want me to do? I can’t bend anymore,”_

Or that’s what Atlas thought.

He learnt to bend again, he didn’t know how it happened, like bending something from a different planet could help, maybe because he probably wasn’t from this planet either.

It wasn’t as easy as what it used to be, and he wasn’t as powerful, but gradually, between being home schooled and training, he was as good as new, and quickly had mastered all four elements.

He wanted to get out of the house as quickly as he good, and luckily enough his billionaire Father felt it was only fair he’d give him enough money to get a place. More than enough money, but Atlas wasn’t going to complain.

He had a good sleep. He rarely got a good sleep, most nights cursed with nightmares ranging from the day he was frozen to terrors about losing his powers, each worse than the last. Sleep was scarce.

It felt like Atlas was drifting past life, he was sixteen years old and set for life. He should be thrilled.

But he wasn’t.

He had to lie low, as to not cause any unwanted attention, he heard of Vanya’s book, read Vanya’s book, good for her really, someone had to say it. There was of course many different reactions, those who didn’t believe it, those who hated on Vanya for this, those who said good for her and stood by her, and many others.

He assumed most of his siblings took a liking to ignoring Vanya and hating her for what she did, but Atlas got it, their Father deserved to be exploited.

But what the public didn’t know is that he was unfrozen, and he planned on keeping it that way, only his siblings aware he was back.

He was allowed to go into public like any other normal person, but he wasn’t any other normal person. He would put a hoodie on and keep his head down, not wanting to drag any extra unwanted attention, so that made his life pretty boring.

Yes, he was last seen at fourteen, but two years really wasn’t all that different but he wasn’t fond of the idea of everyone knowing he was around and hammering him with questions. He could picture the looks and stared he would receive, the thought of it all made him squirm, so he kept his head down.

He met Allison once, caught up with each other, not like Atlas had much too talk about now, but he heard all about her career and her success, and regularly met up with Vanya, they did live in the same state still after all, but his life still felt empty. Like it was missing something. Missing Five.

Vanya had insisted he try taking up a hobby, she even said she would tutor him in violin for half price as a joke, but nothing felt right, nothing felt fulfilling, so he was just _there._ Drifting past life because Sir Reginald Hargreeves thought it great to freeze him.

He turned the television he had on in the living room and began brewing a cup of coffee.

Hearing his Fathers name on the news channel never came as a surprise. Hearing ‘dead’ after it however, was a different story.

He rushed to be in front of the television to make sure he heard it right, he had last seen Reginald three months ago, before he moved out.

“He finally kicked the bucket,” He mumbled to nobody in particular, “I wonder if there’ll be a funeral or what,” he left himself to muse with his thoughts, wandering back into the kitchen to finish making the cup of coffee and no doubt lie around his apartment bored like every other day.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark when Atlas left his apartment to head to his Father’s funeral.

He left his apartment and walked a few blocks away to avoid suspicion as to where he could be going at this time.

Atlas didn’t like the idea of living in an apartment, but it was somewhere he could lie low and nobody would expect to find him. Hidden in plain sight.

After walking a few blocks, he called a cab from the 24/7 cab company that drove him a few blocks away from the academy itself, hiding his face away and not looking the driver in the eye. If the driver was going to cause trouble it wouldn’t be anything he couldn’t handle.

After he was dropped off, Atlas walked, it was edging 5am, and he took twists and turns to make sure nobody would be following him. Once he was finally sure, just as the sun was beginning to rise, he entered the Umbrella Academy.

He would call it his childhood home, but the problem was he didn’t have much of a childhood here, and he only technically moved out three months ago.

Grace, as if she never slept, was immediately in his sight.

“Is there anything I can get you, Atlas?” She spoke sincerely and tipped her head to the side, wearing her signature smile with it that was so friendly yet still somehow so distant.

“No thanks Mum,” he smiled, “I think I’ll just go up to my room and wait for the others to arrive?”

“Okay dear.” Was all she responded fondly before leaving.

First to arrive was Diego, like he had to prove he would be able to arrive before Luther because everything had to be a competition with them.

Atlas walked downstairs to greet whoever arrived, appearing on the large set of stairs as Diego walked in.

“Mum?” He called out, it felt nostalgic hearing Diego calling her out, he clearly had an attachment to the robot.

Diego turned his head to look around, and was met with the sight of Atlas, he knew he was back, but he had never actually seen him.

“Atlas?” He whispered in astonished amazement, a tear pricking the back of his eye, “I- I knew you were back, but I just can’t believe it’s really you,”

“Well you better believe,” He grinned, walking down the stairs to greet Diego.

Almost as if it was timed, after they hugged for a greeting, taking it all in, Grace arrived.

“Yes Diego honey?” She smiled, “You called?”

Diego was startled slightly, forgetting he called her, “Yeah, I did,” he said as he walked into the arch ways leading into one of their many living rooms with Grace following shortly behind. Atlas went back upstairs.

Luther came and Atlas greeted him, but it seemed he was busy and only gave him a nod of his head a ‘good to see you again’ and hastily made his way back up-stairs.

Soon after Allison arrived, and they greeted each other and spoke standing in the middle of the lobby.

There was a creek at the front door and they both turned their heads to it.

The doors cracked open just enough one person could fit through, as if to hide themselves from the world, Vanya stepped through.

“Vanya?” She looked up startled to see she had been noticed so quickly and that Allison didn’t sound as disappointed as she’d expected when seeing her for the first time in years, “You’re actually here?”

“Hey Allison,” Her back had a slight slump in it and her eyes looked void of emotion.

“Hey sis,” Allison walked up to her and hugged her, a silent way of saying she didn’t care about the book and was just glad to see her again.

Vanya was stiff against the hug but slowly warmed up to it and hugged back before pulling away.

“What is she doing here?” Diego began walking though headed upstairs, talking as if Vanya was an object and wasn’t right there, “She doesn’t belong here, not after what she did,”

“You’re seriously gonna do this today?” Allison spoke for Vanya, she herself didn’t feel it was her place to justify her actions no matter how much she wished she had the nerve to.

Diego ignored her and kept walking.

“Wait to dress for the occasion,” Allison jabbed.

“At least I’m wearing black,” Diego said clearly talking about her blue top, brushing her off before going out of view.

“You know what? I- maybe he’s right and I shouldn’t-” Vanya mumbled

“Forget about him,” Atlas came up behind Vanya cutting her off and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezing it, “We’re glad you’re here.”

Vanya turned her head to see him slightly better giving a half smile, not really believing it herself.

All remaining six students to the Umbrella Academy sat in an awkward silence, aside from Klaus helping himself to a drink a few meters behind.

“Umm,” Luther stood up to take charge like he always felt he had to, but Atlas wasn’t going to complain, god knows Luther was the only one who cared enough out of the six of them to organise a funeral, “I guess we should get this started. So I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown, say a few words, just at Dad’s favourite spot,”

“Dad had a favourite spot?” Allison’s brows furrowed

“Yeah, you know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

“Once a daddy’s boy, always a daddy’s boy,” Atlas mumbled under his breath, Vanya breathed a laugh.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus suaveyed in drink in hand, “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner!” he perked up at the end

“What? No. And put that out, Dad didn’t allow smoking in here,” Luther chastised, being a suck up to their Father even when in the grave.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison questioned topic slowly drifting off hand, amusement lingering in her voice.

“What? Oh yeah, this! I found it in your room, it’s a little dated, I know, but it’s very breathy on the,” he waved his hand around to indicate what he was talking about, sighing loudly, “Bits,”

“Listen up.” Luther gathered their attention again, “There are still some important things we need to discuss, alright?”

“Like what?” Diego asked, knowing the answer.

“Like the way he died,” Luther turned to him with an annoyed look on his face.

“And here we go,” Atlas spoke under his breath, still loud enough to hear though.

“I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack?” Vanya spoke for the first time, not wanting to over step.

“Yeah, according to the corner,”

“Well, wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically,”

“Theoretically?” Allison asked like it was the most stupid thing she had ever heard, which to be fair, probably was in the top five.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad he sounded strange. On edge.”

“Ahh, quelle surprise” Klaus gurgled through his drink, laughing at himself slightly.

“Last you spoke with dear old Dad was what? Four years ago before you went to the moon?” Atlas again butted in, fed up of Luther’s childishness.

“Strange how?” Allison ignored her brothers.

“He sounded paranoid, told me to be careful who to trust,” He purposefully ignored Atlas’ jab.

“Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man, who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles,” he stood up from his seat as if to get on the same level as Luther, walking towards him.

“No. He must have known something was going to happen.” He turned to Diego briefly before turning back away and to Klaus.

“Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad,”

Allison scoffed and Klaus took a loud sigh.

“I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, _Hey, Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call_ ” he sounded exasperated almost, waving around his cigarrete and drink for hand gestures.

“Since when? That’s your thing!” Luther sounded aggravated.

“I’m not in the right.. frame of mind,” He spoke his voice slightly louder to defend himself.

“You’re high?” Allison raised her brow and stated it more than questioned.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Klaus laughed pointing his hand toward Allison, “I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?” being the kid and not taking anything seriously and playing around like he always had. Atlas laughed quietly at the commotion, it really was rather entertaining, it had been a while since he had seen all his siblings together.

“Well sober up, this is important,” Luther spoke to assert dominance. It didn’t work well.

Klaus just sighed at all the same nonsense recycling itself.

“Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle,”

“Oh who gives a shit about a stupid monocle,” Diego said frustrated, finally fed up.

“Exactly. It’s worthless,” he turned toward Diego, looking at him. Looking like he was _accusing_ him, “So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge,”

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus scoffed slightly, annoyed.

Atlas finally connected the dots and stood up from where he was sat, dragging attention to him.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious Klaus?” He spoke loudly, dramatically turning his head to Luther to stare him down, “He thinks one of us did it,” he narrowed his eyes before exiting the room.

“You do?!” Klaus breathed out finding this information unbelievable.

“How could you think that?” Vanya sounded offended, though the accusation was directed at all of them, it felt personal since she wrote that book, like it made her suspect number one.

“Great job Luther, way to lead,” Diego nodded his head and spoke sarcastically, patted him on the shoulder twice, before leaving

“I- I- no! That’s, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy. Crazy,” Klaus spoke standing up

“No wait-“ Luther attempted but he was cut off again by Klaus.

“Sorry, I’m just gonna go murder Mum. Be right back,” And he left the room.

“You’re taking this the wrong way. I didn’t-“ But Vanya was following Klaus out, leaving just Allison.

She stood up slowly and looked at him in disbelief, not expecting this from Luther.

“I can’t believe you’d think that.” Was all she said astounded before leaving just Luther to himself.

“That went well.” He sighed to himself.

_“In five, four, three, two, one.” A man spoke in front of a camera, “This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside the Capital Went Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago, taking an unknown amount of hostages.”_

_A bulky looking man walked through a door, on a walkie talkie. To anyone, he would look intimidating, but the Umbrella Academy weren’t just anyone._

_“Hey! Get them back behind the counter!” He spoke over the alarms, clearly being the person in charge, pointing up at them with the gun in his hand, “Now you’ve put me in a position I gotta do something I don’t wanna do. Hmm?” He spoke into the walkie talkie._

_A young girl with long curly brown hair skipped up to the leaders side._

_“Shit!” He cursed to nobody in particular._

_He turned his head and was shocked to see a little girl wearing a uniform and a mask that covered her eyes standing there, not intimidated in the slightest._

_“Hey! Get back with the others!” he tried ordering, pointing with his gun to the group of hostages being hauled around like rag dolls._

_“I heard a rumour!” the girl looked up at him._

_“What? What did you say!?” He asked leaning his head in slightly to hear better, to get a proper explanation why she wasn’t with the rest._

_The girl leaned in back and took one of the hands clasped behind her back up to her mouth, as if to say something only for his ears._

_“I heard a rumour,” her voice echoed, “That you shot your friend in the foot,” His eyes paled and he looked down at the gun he had in his hand and at one of his accomplices._

_“Chief?” He questioned in confusion, but he was already being shot in the foot wailing in agony, triggering him to pull the trigger to his gun and shoot at a window, causing hostages to scream._

_After realising what he had done he looked back down at his gun and at the girl, scared._

_Outside the reporter spoke to the camera, flinching at the sound like the rest of the crowd._

_“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed by that.”_

_“Up there!” A man from the crowd yelled, not too far from the reporter himself, and pointed to the roof._

_“There’s some movement on the roof!” He continued his report, “Possibly law enforcement.”_

_Back inside the building A young blonde dropped in from the ceiling, crashing through glass and landing perfectly behind the counter with the hostages and the man holding them._

_He grabbed him and punched him until he was knocked out, and threw him out a window._

_Back outside the bank a man crashed through a glass window from a height, landing on the concrete._

_“Looks like one of the armed robbers have been thrown from the bank!” He said in astonishment._

_In the bank another young boy ran through the halls._

_“Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives,” he pinned one of the armed men back against the wall by his shoulders, groaning in pain._

_“I’ve been in many hostage situations like this and it can escalate very quickly,” He kept reporting, looking back and forth between the camera and the bank, moving closer to the action._

_“Get back you freaks!” The last man in the lobby stood on a counter switching the aim of his gun between three of the children._

_“Hey! Be careful up there buddy!” the knife thrower taunted._

_“Yeah! Wouldn’t want you to get hurt?” The girl fake pouted._

_“Get back now! Or else!” The man continued to cower back._

_“Or else what?” One of the three children seemed to teleport to his side sitting cross legged to his right on the counter. The man shot at where he sat multiple times, confused to see he had disappeared and turned his head back to where the three children once stood mocking him._

_Another boy came rushing in, followed close by two others, and waved his hands in one quick motion sweeping him off his feet as if he were controlling air. The armed robber lost his balance and fell behind the counter knocking himself out._

_The boy who teleported was by his side on the ground, “We’ll be the ones delivering threats here,” he falsely smiled toward the man who he knew couldn’t hear him._

_The teleporting boy looked up and smiled fondly at the boy who knocked the man off balance before coming back around to meet the other uniformed children waiting for him on the other side of the counter._

_“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on the location to make sure we don’t miss anything in this hostage situation at Capital West Bank!” The report spoke too enthusiastically for a hostage robbery._

_“Do I really have to do this?” The shortest of them looked around for a way out._

_“Come on Ben, there’s more guys in the vault.” The blonde sighed._

_“It’ll be alright Ben,” The one by the blondes side said with black hair spoke, clearly closer with him than the rest, “And if their families miss them I can just send the dead ones a message,” he grinned._

_The second part didn’t seem to help the boy but he looked at the door anyway and sighed._

_“I didn’t sign up for this.” He mumbled and he stepped inside, unleashing a monster within with tentacles thrashing people around the room._

_“And now we see the hostages! They- They’re free. They’re scared clearly, but they do seem to be unharmed.”_

_Inside the small boy walked back outside, covered in blood from head to toe looking down, “Can we go home now?”_

_“More people are coming out now. It’s not the armed robbers. These are young school children in uniforms with masks on,” he sounded surprised._

_Calls of ‘Who are you?’ and ‘Lower your weapons!’ could be heard in the background, though it was clear they didn’t mean harm by the way they had posed for the cameras clicking to capture the event._

_“This is Jim Hellerman, Channel 2 News, how did you get in the bank?” He asked the kids, but a million other reports outside the bank were asking the same, camera clicks, sirens, other chattering and helicopters whirling making it hard to ask anything._

_Further away from a roof top, an elder looking man held a telescope to his eye, looking down approvingly._

_“Why can’t I go play with the others?” A girl wearing the same uniform spoke softer, clear all she wanted was to be included._

_“We’ve been through this before, Number Seven.” He lowered the telescope, “I’m afraid there’s just nothing special about you,” He looked to the girl while she was looking down, hurt._

_“Oh.”_

_“Our world is changing. Has changed.” The same man spoke, striding back and forth in front of the seven children lines up outside the bank, “There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children. I give you, the inaugural class of The Umbrella Academy.”_

_The crowd burst into a fuss, yelling questions desperate for answers, clicking cameras to get photos of what was now known as the Umbrella Academy. The elder man directed his attention to one of the reporters._

_“Mr Hargreeves! Channel 9 News! What happened to their parents?”_

_“They were suitably compensated,”_

_“Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?” Another asked_

_“Of course,” He declared, “As I am for the fate of the world.”_

All six of the Hargreeves siblings were scattered across the house, Atlas himself was in his room.

He spent most of his morning up here, minding his business, but now he laid on his bed, looking up at the roof and wondering when it all happened, when the Umbrella Academy came to eight siblings who couldn’t agree on anything.

They were a disaster waiting to happen.

Then he heard a familiar sound track play.

After their first ever mission, once the Umbrella Academy became known, all eight of the children, including Vanya, went to celebrate their success.

It was late at night, the rest of the house was asleep but they all gathered into the one room, playing the same one song on repeat from one of the many record players in their house.

‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tiffany.

It was kind of ironic really, they had all been celebrating together, but that didn’t matter, it soon collectively became their favourite song.

They let Vanya pick, it was the least they could do to include her.

That night they had fun, talked and danced and ate lollies they snuck in, and made an agreement. That they would always dance when they heard this song play.

A smile creeped onto Atlas’ face, he remembered dancing around the room with the rest staying up all night, it was one of his fondest memories. They all got along and there was no trouble, just high on the success from the day.

He heaved himself up from his bed, he felt stupid, yes, but it also felt right, so he began to move around, dance to the music that drifted through the house, only hoping he wasn’t the only one dancing.

He shut his eyes and ignored what was going on, revelling in the feeling of carelessness and just lived in the moment, letting go of his future worries for a few mere minutes.

Then there was a loud sound come from outside, in their courtyard.

The music stopped and it sounded similar thunder, there were flashing lights and things crashing, he rushed outside immediately to see what was going on.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one and met all his siblings aside from Klaus at the door leading into the courtyard.

“Oh,” Diego sounded like a bomb had just dropped, putting his hand to his eyes to shield them from the bright blue.

“Don’t get too close!” Allison warned, putting a protective arm on Luther, Atlas found it quite amusing, with the size of Luther he was sure he could handle himself.

“Yeah, no shit!” Diego yelled over the sound.

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly!” Luther yelled, trying to sound smartest when he so clearly wasn’t, “Either that or a miniature black hole, one of the two!”

Atlas sighed annoyed, it was clearly neither, _a miniature black hole?! Was he trying to sound dumb?!_ , he was smarter than Luther even with a younger conscious but that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan,” He voiced his thoughts.

“Out of the way!” A scream came, running through the group of them, came Klaus.

He had a fire extinguisher.

He sprayed it into the portal tearing through their yard, realising it was doing no help, he lobbed it through the hole and cowered back.

“What is that gonna do?!” Allison yelled.

“I don’t know!” He threw his hands in the air, “Do you have a better idea?”

Gaping at the sight in front of them an elder man’s face started to appear.

“Everyone get behind me!” Luther tried holding everyone back behind his arms.

“Yeah, get behind _us_!” Diego copied Luther’s actions, now really wasn’t the time to try best each other.

“I vote for running! C’mon!” Klaus waved his hands back towards the door they came through, but nobody followed.

They all stood as a group at the sight before them ready to fight whoever was coming through that portal.

The face was morphing, between the old man and a familiar face. _Five._

He dropped from the portal and fell to the ground, in a suit too big for him and looked up.

He saw familiar faces approaching him, and he got up, looking slightly confused.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus questioned from the back, not speaking in a straight sentence from the shock of it all.

Five looked down on himself, and noticed he was too smaller and shorter and younger.

He wasn’t the age he ran off in, 13, but rather, 16.

He looked up at his family gaping at him.

“Shit.”

“What’s the date. The _exact_ date.” Five huffed, placing a cutting board down on the table and going to look for some bread.

“The 24th,” Vanya supplied from her chair.

“Of what?” He already sounded annoyed, like saying it once should be enough.

“March,”

“Good,” he said not continuing to speak.

“So, are we going to talk about what just happened?” Luther questioned.

Five ignored them, placing the bread down and continuing with making his sandwich, no doubt a peanut butter and marshmallow one, Atlas thought.

“It’s been seventeen years!” Luther stood up from his chair opposite Vanya in a poor attempt assert dominance, but it didn’t intimidate Five.

He looked up from his bread and walked up toe to toe with Luther, “It’s been a lot longer than that!” He spoke through his teeth, then spatial jumped right past Luther to a cabinet, and back to his working space.

“I haven’t missed that,” He mumbled

“Where’d you go?” Diego asked, half leaning on the table, not looking at Five.

“To the future, it’s shit by the way,”

“Called it!” Klaus enthusiastically clapped his hands from where he was sat cross legged, bare foot, on top of the table.

The rest of the Hargreeves siblings, stood around the table, aside from Atlas who stood leaning against the doorway silently. They all gave him uncertain looks.

“I should’ve listened to the old man,” he sighed, looking in the fridge, “You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is the toss of a dice,”

Five looked up when he placed the peanut butter down, getting a good look at Klaus, “Nice dress,”

“Oh, well, danke,” he responded.

“Wait,” Vanya put a hand to her forehead, “How did you get back?” Clearly confused.

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time,” He spoke not looking up as if it were perfectly understandable, which it was to Atlas, but not his siblings who clearly weren’t as smart as they thought.

“That makes no sense,” Diego still looked down.

“Well it would if you were smarter,”

Diego stood up in offense but Luther blocked his path.

“How long were you there?” he asked

“Forty-five years,” he placed one piece of bread on top of the other, “Give or take,”

Luther sat down to gather his thoughts, “So what are you saying?” Confusion laced his voice and features, “That you’re 58?”

“No,” he looked up at him as if it were obvious, “My consciousness is 58, apparently I am 16,”

“How does that even work?” Vanya asked.

But she was ignored, Five picked up his sandwich and turned away, mumbling to himself but loud enough for them all to hear, “Delores kept saying the equations were off,” He shook his head, “Bet she’s laughing now,”

Atlas tensed slightly, a flare of jealousy, but ignored it.

“Delores?” Vanya asked again but was also ignored again.

He hummed to himself, picking up the papers that had Reginalds face and announcement of his death on it, “I guess I missed the funeral,” he shrugged it off.

“How’d you know about that?”

“What part of the future do you not understand?” He asked as if Luther were dumb, which sometimes he really was.

“Heart failure huh?” He mumbled to himself.

“Yeah,” Diego spoke at the same time Luther said “No,”

He placed the paper down, “Nice to see nothings changed,” And he left, walking past Atlas without acknowledgement.

“That’s it?” Allison called, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say? The circle of life.” And he was out of sight.

Atlas furrowed his brow in thought and looked at their siblings who were clearly doing the same, and decided to follow Five to wherever he was headed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly?? I don't know the importance or relevance for the scene where they save the bank from being robbed but it was in the episode that I am writing (though I've cut the actual canon episode short) so i figured why not put it in there?

**Author's Note:**

> Umm uhh so yeah that's chapter one I hope you like it, also I want to leave the physical appearance to Atlas up to you!


End file.
